Lick (Stage Dive, #1)(33)
“No.”
“Not even in Vegas when I started swearing at you and slamming doors?” His fingers slid into my hair, rubbing at my scalp. Impossible not to push into his touch like a happy kitty. He had magic hands. He even made mornings bearable. Though five a.m. was pushing it.
“That wasn’t a good morning for either of us,” I said.
“How about in LA with that girl hanging off me?”
“You planned that?”
He shut one eye and looked down at me. “Maybe I needed some armor against you.”
I didn’t know what to say. At first. “It’s none of my business who you have hanging off you.”
His smile was one of immense self-satisfaction. “You were jealous.”
“Do we have to do this right now?” I pushed against his hard body, getting nowhere. “David?”
“Can’t own up to it, can you?”
I didn’t reply.
“Hey, I couldn’t bring myself to touch her. Not with you there.”
“You didn’t?” I calmed down a lot at that statement. My heart palpitations eased. “I wondered what happened. You came back so fast.”
He grunted, got closer. “Seeing you with Jimmy …”
“Nothing was going on. I swear.”
“No, I know. I’m sorry about that. I was out of line.”
My pushing hands turned to petting. Funny that. They slid over his shoulders, around his neck to fiddle with his hair. I just wanted to feel the heat of his skin and keep him near. He made for an emotional landslide, turning me from sleep deprived and cranky to adoring in under eight seconds. “It’s great that you wrote some songs.”
“Mm. How about when I left you with Adrian and the lawyers? Were you mad at me then?”
I huffed out a breath. “Fine. I might admit to being a bit upset about that.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “When I got back and they told me what had happened, that you’d taken off with Mal, I lost it. Trashed my favorite guitar, used it to take apart Mal’s kit. Still can’t believe I did that. I was just so f*cking angry and jealous and mad at myself.”
I could feel my face scrunch up in disbelief. “You did?”
“Yeah.” His eyes were stark, wide. “I did.”
“Why are you telling me this now, David?”
“I don’t want you hearing it from someone else.” He swallowed, making the line of his throat move. “Listen, I’m not like that, Ev. It won’t happen again, I promise. I’m just not used to this. You get to me. This whole situation does. I dunno, I’m f*cking rambling. Do you understand?”
Later, he mightn’t even remember any of this. But right now, he looked so sincere. My heart hurt for him. I looked into his bloodshot eyes and smiled. “I think so. It definitely won’t happen again?”
“No. I swear.” The relief in his voice was palpable. “We’re okay?”
“Yes. Are you going to play the songs for me later?” I asked. “I’d love to hear them.”
“They’re not done yet. When they’re done, I will. I want them perfect for you.”
“Okay,” I said. He’d written songs about me. How incredible, unless they were the uncomplimentary kind, in which case we needed to talk. “They’re not about how much I annoy you sometimes, are they?”
He see-sawed his hand in the air. “A little. In a good way though.”
“What?” I cried.
“Trust me.”
“Do you actually state what a pain in the ass I am in these songs?”
“Not those words exactly. No.” He chuckled, his good humor returned. “You don’t want me to lie and say everything’s always f*cking unicorns and rainbows, do you?”
“Maybe. Yes. People are going to know these are about me. I have a reputation as a constant delight to protect.”
He groaned. “Evelyn, look at me.”
I did so.
“You are a constant f*cking delight. I don’t think anyone could ever doubt that.”
“You’re awful pretty when you lie.”
“Am I now? They’re love songs, baby. Love isn’t always smooth or straightforward. It can be messy and painful,” he said. “Doesn’t mean it isn’t still the most incredible thing that can ever happen to you. Doesn’t mean I’m not crazy about you.”
“You are?” I asked, my voice tight with emotion.
“Of course I am.”
“I’m crazy about you too. You’re beautiful, inside and out, David Ferris.”
He lay his forehead against mine, closing his eyes for a moment. “You’re so f*cking sweet. But, you know, I like that you can bite too. Like you did in Vegas with those *s. I like that you cared, standing up for that girl. I even kind of like it when you piss me off. Not all the time though. Shit. I’m rambling again …”
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “I like you rambling.”
“So you’re not angry at me for losing my temper?”
“No, David. I’m not angry at you.”
Without another word he crawled off me and lay at my side. He pulled me into his arms, arranging an arm beneath me and another over my hip. “Ev?”